


A World Of Red And Blue

by maximumdogs



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 1942, Alternate Universe - World War II, American force in World War II, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith has no family, Keith is a soldier, Keith is gay in 1942, Lance is a war doctor, M/M, OC named Lily-Anne, PS Lily-Anne is a hoe, Possible trigger warning (?), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Social Anxiety, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximumdogs/pseuds/maximumdogs
Summary: During World War II, an American soldier named Keith Kogane fights hard to protect his country- and to protect his identity. He faces struggles with coming to terms about who he is through his tiny glass world of red and blue. This 23 year old soldier is stuck in a pit of anxiety, war, and homosexuality. An unfortunate accident brings his path to Doctor McClain, a young war doctor working in their camp's infirmary. 7 months later, Lance shows up at Keith's door step.





	A World Of Red And Blue

A World of Red and Blue

M Florida  
October 16  
Narrative Writing  
Semester 1 Assessment

Out here, there’s no hiding places. There’s no closure, or secrets, or silent voices. The only thing you can keep to yourself are your dreams, the ones you dream in the company of countless others. The steam of the train fills the air, along with the unbearable screech of the breaks. Time to go. An American man with black hair secures his green cap on his head, breathing in the dank atmosphere. Others like him kissed their wives and children, waiting as long as they could before they had to go. The black haired man shrugs past the families, without a second glance, and steps onto the train. Young men were sprawled across the seats, their bags in their laps of the bare necessities. 

These men were off to fight in the war- one that seemed like it would never end. The black haired man sits in an empty seat, his head lolling onto the grimy window. His heart was never heavy when he came back after these breaks. If anything, he’d say he looked forward to it. It was crazy, but he loved the adrenaline, and knowing that every breath may be his last out on the battlefield. He loves the feeling of the gun in his hand, having all that power- and having it legally. 

The trip to the warzone was a short one. They all flooded off the train, and staggered down to check-in. Someone starts roll call, and the man zones out until he hears his name.

“Kogane? Keith Kogane!” A man shouted from the podium, and the man snapped his head up, raising his hand.

“Here, Sir!” He called, shrugging through the crowd to have his bags checked, and step into the single file line. This line would take Keith to the booth where he’d receive his field schedule and cot number. This was going to be a long session.

+

Keith’s ears rang with a shrieking blow, and the sounds of men dying swallowed the air around him. He kept his head low, beneath packs of sand and mounds of dirt. His heart raced and beads of sweat pulled on his filthy dirt-covered skin. He closed his eyes, and honed in on one sound out of the millions- Japanese commands. Keith lasered his focus to direct him toward the voices, and he slowly sat up and shuffled to a tree on his right. He felt the scoldings from his commander coming already, but he kept on moving until he reached the base of the tree. He loaded his gun, breathing heavily. 

The shouting and crying and gunshots still clouded the air, but all Keith could hear was the location of the Japanese troops. He smelled their footprints and ate up the demands that the commander was shouting out. Keith loaded his gun, and cocked it with a smirk. He bit the end of his gloves, pulling them down to tighten over his fingers before leaning his sniper against the tree’s side. The world was red and blue, and he could see right through it.

A world of red and blue, melted to glass as a single bullet was fired in a warzone on a Californian coastline.   
He remembers the feeling of the hot dirt crawling into his vest as his comrade yanked him down after he took the shot, and thousands of blood-boiling screams and foreign shouts of blasphemy. He’d put a bullet in the rib of the Japanese commander.

What felt like hours later, he was marched back into the showers- and then to dinner- and then to bed. From Keith’s cot, he could hear the cries and the moans from the infirmary house next door. He listens to men having their stomachs torn open by torturous gunshot wounds and shudders. He wonders what being shot is like. Does it really hurt as bad as people say it does? Maybe one day he’d find out. For now, he lays his head down on the stiff pillow provided for him and attempts to sleep.

+

One week’s hard work; one trip to the bar. Keith’s quadrant was off on the weekends, which gave them enough time to travel to the bar. Keith didn’t necessarily want to go, but he didn’t have a choice, really. The other men pulled him along.

“It’ll be fun, Kogane!” One of the men- Holt? - said, snapping his cap over his short red hair. “Pretty ladies singing on stage, whiskey and booze for all your days.”  
That sounded fine and all, but here’s the thing- Keith isn’t so into women. No matter how much he’s tried, he doesn’t feel the attraction to a female body the way a normal man should. He didn’t know what this meant- only that he was abnormal in some way. 

But he agreed to go along with his buddies anyway, even if just to humor himself. Maybe, this time, he’d be able to find a woman he liked…

+

The bar was not a pretty place. The floors were wooden, but buried in dust, and the lights perfected the illusion that this place was old fashioned. Despite the unsightly mess of the place, there seemed to be a million bodies inside. At least 40 other soldiers were piled into the dance floor, shaking their shoulders with a shiny lady, or in a group of friends. 

Keith sat himself at the bar- right in the middle- and almost immediately, a glass of scotch was slid over to him. He perked his ears up, wondering where it came from, when a woman with keen brown eyes sauntered up next to him. From an objective stance, she was gorgeous- with perfect red lipstick and a fitted dress to match, and her dark brown hair curled to hug behind her ears; to cascade over her tan shoulders.

“Hello, soldier,” She said, a butterfly lilt to her voice. She smiled this kind of honey filled smile, that sickened Keith. 

“Hello, ma’am,” Keith replied respectfully, avoiding eye contact. He knew if he looked at this woman, he’d be in a spiral of discontent. 

She sits down on the stool next to Keith, and plants her cheek in her perfectly manicured fingers. “You must be tired, you know-” The woman grazes her eyes along Keith from top to bottom, “From all that fighting you’ve been doing.”

All Keith allows himself is a small affirmative grunt, idly staring at the glass of orange liquid in front of him.

“How about I loosen you up?” She suggests, cocking her head and sliding one of her fingers across Keith’s shoulders. “Come on, baby, dance with me!” She shouts, spinning around wildly and grabbing Keith’s hand to pull him along.

Keith didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all. He held a burning pit in his stomach, allowing the flames to slither up the walls. This woman is cunning, although strikingly beautiful, and it makes Keith uneasy. His battle instincts tell him no, fight back, what are you doing? But he just lets it happen. His mind is buzzing, but nothing about her is positive. He doesn’t even know her name.

“Excuse me, miss,” Keith starts, attempting to dislodge his hand from her claws, “What might your name be?”

She turns to face him fully and smiles brightly between the lines of cherry. 

“Lily-Anne,” She says slyly, “And you’re Captain Kogane.”  
Captain?

“No ma’am, I’m not a Cap-”

She shushes Keith with a finger to his lips, and he can practically taste the bad intentions slipping off of them. He’s suddenly very aware of his surroundings- and the men watching him with awe. Maybe Lily-Anne is a “rare catch”? Keith wouldn’t have been able to tell, especially not with 10 other men in tight button downs looking at him in awe.

He caught himself before he could get too far into his fascination, and turned his attention back to this star-like woman in front of him. All he wanted to do was look at these men. He could trace the creases in their shirts down to where they were tucked into their pants, and the line where their green army hats sit atop their short hair. When he looked at this woman, he saw nothing. He could barely see the sparkle in her smile, and he was wary of if she even had one. He saw a big, grey rock in an array of diamonds; dimming their shine.

And suddenly, he needed to sit down. His world was a palace of spinning plates, and he toppled down, down, down. He couldn’t be… He couldn’t… He leaned against a nearby pole and avoided any kind of eye contact. He looked at his dress shoes, the ones he’d borrowed from Holt for the night, and monitored his breathing.  
He heard the screams behind him, and he didn’t need to see them. He heard the gunshots and the cries that rang out. He heard the commands and exclamations of soldiers, their comrades dying beneath them. 

It wasn’t real. He swayed through his glass world of red and blue and somehow maneuvered his way through the crowded dance floor, to where the bathroom doors stood. He had to get through there. Eyes pressed into him, their gazes hot on the back of his neck, peeking over his collared shirt.   
He escaped to a small bathroom stall, and sat down on the closed toilet. It was dirty in here, just like the rest of the bar, but Keith couldn’t feel safer. He knew now who he was, and what that meant. He could feel the venom from Lily-Anne slipping through his socks, and hastily scrubbed his skin with thin bathroom tissue. He could feel her everywhere, taunting him to come out of his shell, to reveal his true intentions with the men. 

Keith spat into the sink, and willed the goosebumps he felt as a sheet over him to dissipate. They remained. He knew who he was. He hated who he was. He’s illegal- he’s the kind the Nazis are targeting. He’s not Jewish, but a homosexual. A man attracted to other men. An abomination to the church and to the U.S. Army.   
He steps out of the bathroom, and takes the next train back to camp. He’s empty.

+

Tuesday is his next field time. When Keith steps into line to be boarded off, his gun is hung low between his shoulders. It’s just another shipment to war on the coast, but it feels different. Keith is uncomfortable in his own skin, the linear veins turning black and shucking off the excess external features. He felt like he wasn’t himself, but in reality he was more suited to his name than ever. He knows who he is, and even if he doesn’t like it, he has to compromise within himself.  
The battlefield smelled more of rotting flesh this day than it had in the past, which was never a good sign. The Japanese forces were most likely stronger today, standing arm and arm. He wasn’t prepared for this, but he had to do what his country needed. 

Keith crouched behind a mound of sand bags, with dirt exploding into his face from above. The whistling of bombs penetrated his thoughts, and swung his legs towards a thick-wooded tree, not unlike the one he’d used as cover the last time he fought. He avoided the blows, grasping forearms of other soldiers looking to escape. 

His heart was thudding, his blackened veins surging adrenaline through his entire body.

“Stay down!” He rasps, as loud as he can so the soldiers he’s protecting will know not to follow his lead. He stands up behind the tree, chancing minuscule glances from the sides to get a briefing of where the bomb stations were set up. 

Keith’s throat is scratchy with dirt and sand he’d accidentally caught, and he struggles to swallow as he detaches his sniper from his back, and positions it against a thin tree branch. He narrows his eyes, his thick black eyelashes cascading curtains to single out his target. 

In this moment, he was only thinking about one thing. He didn’t care that he was a homosexual, he didn’t care that he wasn’t supposed to be here, he didn’t care that he’d never have kids or get married, he didn’t care that he was risking his life by putting himself out in the open. He didn’t care, because he was saving countless others’ lives; ones that matter more than his. 

If he was fighting to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves- those who were targeted by the Nazi troops, those targeted by prejudice, women, children, grandparents, sick children, Jewish people, homosexuals- he was fighting for himself. He was fighting for his life, because he is one of those people.  
So, he grunted heavily, and made to pull the trigger on his gun. He never reached it.

+

Keith used to wonder how it felt to be shot. He used to wonder if it really hurt as bad as survivors really said it does. Now, he doesn’t have to wonder. 

He’s being carried on a white cloth stretcher towards the infirmary house. He hated how powerless he was- how he let himself be put into this position by the opposing soldiers and samurais. Keith’s body had a bullet in its hip. A steel torpedo lodged in his muscles. He could barely move, strapped to the stretcher, so it was a relief when he was set into an infirmary bed. 

Several nurses tended to him at different times, having to switch rapidly between patients. The pain tore through his torso, through his thighs and back and legs. He had never felt anything like this before- this unbearable pain he was completely swallowed in, without power.   
He let himself sleep.  
+  
“Kogane?” Keith was awoken by a male voice.

He opened his eyes quickly, and immediately groaned into the empty air beside him. Only when he fully got a glance at who was speaking did he go still.  
This was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

Although he was shielded by a long white coat, with a dark blue shirt underneath it, and big round glasses that looked absolutely ridiculous on him- he was gorgeous. Keith also realized that he was, in fact, a war doctor here to tend to his wounds- not eye candy.

“Hello, Doctor,” Keith said in a scratchy voice, his throat still coated in sandy remains.

“You have a bullet wound in the center of your iliac crest, which will require a steel plate to repair. We’ve removed the…” The doctor looked up from his clipboard, and faltered mid-sentence. Keith barely noticed, he was too busy focusing on the pain in his hip. The doctor clears his throat, and continues, “We’ve removed the bullet, but we need to have a second surgery to replace the plate in the iliac crest that was damaged, and doing so will leave you partially paralyzed.” The doctor sat down in a chair next to Keith, and Keith could see the man’s sparkling dark blue eyes. 

The doctor’s eyes were the kind of dark blue that a baby’s eyes are, when they don’t have much color yet. Light blue seeps slightly from his pupils, but grow darker as they reach out. Keith was entranced, and as he stared at this beautiful man, his tanned skin blushed. Keith was taken by surprise at that. Was he…?

“We would’ve transferred you to a state hospital by now, but moving you without this surgery could prevent you from walking ever again-”

“Wait, what?” Keith hadn’t been listening very closely, “I won’t be able to walk?”

The doctor sighed, and tilted his head, “You’ll be paralyzed for a while, so yes, you won’t be able to walk stable for at least two or three months.”

Keith leaned back into the thin pillow on the infirmary bed. He couldn’t walk. He couldn’t fight. Yesterday’s fight had been the last fight in the war he’d have taken, and he doesn’t know how to deal with that. 

“Hey, Kogane, it’s going to be okay. You’ll live.” He stands up again, and is about to turn around, when he stops himself, and holds a hand out to Keith. “I’m Doctor McClain, but you can call me Lance.” He left with a wink and a smile, without Keith even taking his hand. 

+

Surgery went fast.

Keith was sent home in a wheelchair, his leg wrapped tightly in thin gauze, that barely worked. He spent seven months like this- halfway through, his wheelchair was replaced with a walking cane, and he could finally walk again. He galloped to the mailbox and back, and sometimes to the diner across the street for breakfast. 

His days were boring, but he was alive. He was alive, and breathing, and a war veteran, and disabled, and a homosexual. He represents himself, now, as a man with a minimized future.

One cold Sunday in August, Keith was surprised by a knock on his door. He panicked, thinking it was a recruiter, until he remembered that he was physically incapable of fighting in the war again. He grunted his way to the door, and swung it open, only to be engulfed in familiarity.

“Keith Kogane?” The man at the door asked, wrapping his dark tanned hands around in each other. His dark blue eyes were wary and hesitant, as if he was afraid that Keith wouldn’t remember him.

“Doctor McClain,” Keith breathed, steadying himself on his cane.

The doctor smiled shyly. “I didn’t think you would’ve remembered me.”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows, a small frown hinting at his chapped lips. 

“How could I forget?” He murmurs, shifting his eyes over Lance’s body. Even buried in clothes, Keith could tell he was the same doctor that had tended to him seven months ago, with the same body and the same muscles and veins and ligaments. A silence fell over the two, but it was far from uncomfortable. It was warm, with a thin sheet of euphoria.

“So, uh, is your hip better?” Lance asked, awkwardly motioning to Keith’s side.

“Uh, yeah… Why are you here?” 

Lance chuckled, rubbing his neck. “I sort of got let go for insubordination…”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I mean, why are you here,” He explains, waving a hand to his doorway.

“I’m, uh, supposedly taking up this thing where I help disabled veterans in their daily lives.”

“And I’m the one you chose?”

Lance shrugged, “It’s not actually a real program.”

Keith raised his eyebrow, and stopped moving. “Are you here just because you want to be?”

All Lance had to do was smile at him, and Keith pulled him in the house by his neck.

 

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually an assignment i did for school, i was going to use original characters when i decided that it would be really cool to publish this on AO3; so here i am. Props to Abby for being my rock while writing this.


End file.
